Unwanted
by back off im completely nuts
Summary: Carlisle was abused and bullied as a child, what happens when the Denalis mother Sasha adopts him along side her other three children. Can he ever get over the trama his father caused him? Can Sasha keep him safe when the enemy lives across the road? How will the girls react to his arrival? as they grow older what happens to their relationships? M for Violence, language, all kids
1. Chapter 1

"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" The chants and jeers of the other children echoed through the playground. Some poor kid was about to get the living daylights beaten out of them. Teachers ran towards the sight of the torment, saviours for the victim.  
"GO ON, MOVE ALONG!" bellowed the principal, trying to disperse the students. "Go. To. Class. Alistair." He said sternly. The child hesitantly went back to class. "As for you two, my office. Now."

**Tanya POV  
**Later that day

"MUM!" my older sister Irina ran up our front steps, yelling excitedly.  
"What!?" laughed our mother Sasha, pulling her long hair out of her face.  
"There was a fight at school today," my youngest sister Kate said quietly.  
"Soon Katie," mum said, turning back to Irina.  
"I GOT AN A!" she squealed, holding up a marks paper. Our mother cheered and hugged her.  
"What did you say sweetie?" She asked Kate.  
"He got beaten up again." She said bluntly.  
"Who?" Kate pointed to the house across the road from us. "Don't worry, Love, his dad will sort them out, he is the pastor after all." My sister didn't look comforted. "What about you?" She asked me. "how was your day?"  
"Good," I replied as I did every day. She smiled and rolled her eyes.  
A scream outside interrupted our family moment.  
"Why don't we all go watch TV?" mum asked nervously, ushering us into the lounge. The three of us sat on the couch while our mother went back into the kitchen. Craning my neck, I could see her lean out the window in search of the noise. We all waited in our lavishly decorated lounge.

We were a wealthy family, better off than most, but our mother still made us go to public schools. To 'learn to fit in with society', she said. It wasn't so bad though, nobody bothered us and we all got good marks. The other students seemed to like us and we pretty much had the pick of any of the boys in the place. We lived in the 'posh' part of London, surrounded by beautifully well-kept houses and manicured lawns. It was a safe neighbourhood and any of the children in it could play on the streets at any time of day or night without a worry. We were quite close friends with most of the kids on our block, and during the day the mothers and fathers met for lunch, which was probably the reason for our good relationships. We attended church every Sunday, which was led by Pastor Cullen, who lived across the road. We weren't really Christians, but mostly went because it was a tradition enforced in us by our father before he passed and it meant a lot to helped to keep the memory of him real, I guess. Apart from the loss of our father, we had had pretty good childhoods so far, without too much drama. Irina was 13, I was 11, and Kate was 9, although she acted older than her age.

I turned my attention back to the TV. Our mother had come back in to join us. She looked worried.  
"What was that about?" Irina asked quietly.  
"I'm not sure darling, I couldn't see anything," she replied, tension in her voice. Outside, an angry male voice was yelling abuses. Mother turned the TV up louder. Over the noise, we all heard a dull thump, and then a child whimpering. Mum paled a bit.  
"What was that?" Kate asked softly.  
"Who has homework to do?" mum enthused, trying to distract us. All three of us moaned and slowly moved to go and fetch it.

**Kate POV**

I settled into my chair, pulling my books out of my bag and spreading them on the desk in front of me. As the bell rang, a pale blond boy rushed into the room.  
"CULLEN!" The teacher growled. The boy caught his foot on the edge of one of the desk and went sprawling onto the floor. His body bent awkwardly as he hit the floor. The teacher stood looming over him. "Get up." He slowly stood. A large bruise covered the side of his face. I didn't think it was from the fall. He looked close to tears. "Sit down." He snarled, pulling out the empty chair beside me. He carefully did, wincing. He whimpered. "And when the bell goes, you can make your way down to the principal's office and tell him you were late for the fourth time in a week." The teachers voice was quiet, but more threatening than when he had been yelling.  
"P-please s-sir I-I-I d-didn't mean t-to," the boy stuttered pleadingly.  
"SHUT UP AND DO AS YOUR TOLD!" the teacher screamed at him. He flinched and looked down at his hands. They too were bruised and cover in cuts.

As the class went on, I carefully examined him, trying not to let him catch me. He was skinny, really, really skinny, and covered in deep gouges. I shuddered to think what caused those wounds. His skin was littered in purple splotches and his clothes were ripped and torn. He'd pulled his chin-length hair in front of his face, creating a wall between us. Somehow, he was still incredibly cute and I felt drawn to him.

Halfway through our lesson, he wrapped his arms around his middle and hunched forward in his seat. He was shaking violently and had tears streaming down his cheeks.  
"What's wrong?" I asked quietly. He shook his head but otherwise didn't move. He stayed like that until the bell went and then hesitantly rose from his seat and disappeared down the hall.

During our break, I again heard the cheers of encouragement for a fight. I didn't understand what they found so appealing about it.

When the bell went, I returned to my seat and prayed that the blond boy wasn't late again. I didn't think he could take much more telling off. He seemed so familiar and I tried to remember where I had seen him before. _Cullen._ He was the pastor's son. I made a mental note to tell mother he was in my class when I got home.  
Thankfully, he arrived on time. He was covered in dirt and dust, and his bruises seemed deeper than before. He had a raw scrape on the side of his face and cradled his arm against him, as though it caused him great pain. He sat down, next to me again.  
As the other children filed into the classroom, one boy, Amun I think his name was, pushed all of the boys books onto the ground from the desk and then stood there smirking at him. I wanted to punch him so badly it hurt. The boy reached down to get them, his movements fumbled. While he was leaning forward, Amun pulled the chair out from under him. He fell with full force against the ground, crushing his arm underneath him. He cried out as his weight hit it. Amun laughed cruelly and kicked him hard in the ribs before shoving his books away further and returning to his seat. The rest of the class stifled giggles and whispered to the friend excitedly.  
I gathered his things off the floor and put them back on his desk. He slowly picked himself up and I wondered how many times he'd had to do that today. As he sat back in his chair he choked back sob, tears running down his face.  
As the door opened and an adult came in, he quickly looked down, as if to hide his misery. It wasn't the teacher though, it was our mother.  
"Come on Katie," she beckoned me. "We're going to go have lunch with your cousins." Although I loved my cousins and would have usually jumped at the chance to see them, today I was hesitant. I didn't want to leave the boy by himself.

**Sasha POV**

As we all climbed into the family car, my youngest child asked me; "What Mr Cullen's sons name?" she didn't sound confident which was unusual for her. I strained my memory.  
"…Carlisle, I think." Yes, that sounded right. "Why?"  
"He got hurt today," she whispered. I could barely hear her. I had to stop myself from flinching. That child was always getting hurt. He was beaten at home, bullied at school, incredibly under-fed and usually sick when I saw him. So much for being the pastor's son. That man was a beast, although not many people in our town realised it. "He'll be okay," I assured her even though I didn't believe it myself. I would be surprised if the poor thing survived made it through the year. I had to do something. Soon.

As we pulled up in my sister's driveway, the eldest two quickly raced from the car in search of their favourite cousins. Kate, however, remained sitting in the backseat.  
"What's the matter honey?"  
"Mummy?"  
"Yes love?"  
"Why does the devil run the church?" I shushed her.  
"Katie, I know he's a bad man, but you mustn't talk like that around other people okay? You could get us all in a lot of trouble."  
"Yes mummy," she said, looking down at her lap.  
"Hey," I said, pulling her onto my knee. "He's not going to hurt you, I won't let him."  
"But you let him hurt Carlisle." She got off my lap and ran off into the house. Although she struggled to say his name and it sounded kind of sweet, her words cut deep. I knew she was right, buti couldn't just take him, could I?


	2. Chapter 2

**Pastor Cullen POV**

Again the boy was late. He just wouldn't learn.  
I stood looking out our kitchen window for his arrival. Again I would have to beat him or his disobedience. How was he ever supposed to become a son of god if he couldn't behave? He was possessed by Satan himself, I was sure of it.

Finally, I saw him hurrying up the road. I looked at the clock. He was three minutes late. Anger bubbled inside of me. How DARE he disrespect me like this?! The front door opened and I heard him come into the house. I made a beeline for him.  
"CARLISLE!" I screamed at him while slapping him with enough force that he fell to the ground. Immediately the side of his face became red. "GET UP YOU WORTHLESS CHILD!" slowly he obeyed me. Too slowly. I kicked his feet out from underneath him and he flew back and smacked him head hard against the tiles. Served him right. "I SAID GET UP!" he did, faster this time. So the boy did learn, he just chose not to.  
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR CLOTHES?!" I demanded, noticing they were more ripped than they were this morning. He looked down at his feet. I could see him body trembling in fear. I also noticed that he held one of his arms close to him. He was hiding something from me. I could feel a vein throbbing on my forehead.  
"T-the o-other k-kids-" I didn't let him finish.  
"HOW DARE YOU HIDE THINGS FROM ME!" the stupid creature looked confused. That did it. I grabbed his arm, the one he had been cradling, and began dragging him toward the basement. He screamed and started to cry. Baby. "SHUT UP!" I screeched at him. He tried to hold back his tears but sobs still shook his body. "I SAID QUIET!" I threw him to the ground and kicked him as hard as I could in the stomach. He immediately curled up to protect himself. "YOU'RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH! NOBODY LOVES YOU!" I shoved him with as much force as possible down the staircase and into the dark room. When he hit the bottom, he didn't move, and I strained to see if he was breathing. A pool of blood began to form where he was lying. He moaned quietly and I knew he was alive.  
I charged down the stairs and dragged him into the room. "You killed your own mother, murderer," I hissed at him. I brought my whip down across his small body again and again, until he stopped flinching from the blows. Once I realised he was unconscious, I returned back upstairs to enjoy the coffee I had made before he came home. Dealing with that monstrous boy was stressful, I needed to relax.

As darkness fell, I sat down to my dinner. Halfway through my meal, I heard him coming back up the stairs. He quietly came down the hallway, attempting to sneak past me. For that he would go hungry.  
"Carlisle?" I said sweetly. He slowly came and stood at the foot of the table.  
"Y-yes f-father?" his voice shook and his face was wet from tears. Blood ran down his arm and dripped onto the floor.  
"I want you to finish you chores and then go to bed." I said evenly. "And don't you even think about trying to steal food." He nodded. "Clean up that mess your making too." I motioned to the blood on the floor. With that, I finished my food and went to bed, falling into a comfortable sleep.

"D-daddy?" a small voice hiccupped, awakening me from my sleep.  
"What?" I snapped, angry to have been disturbed. He knew better than that. He flinched, then gasped.  
"…i-I don't feel well… a-and I think my arms b-broken…" his voice was so quiet I could barely hear him. Hadn't he learned from the last time he woke me up in the night?  
"Too bad," I growled, rolling over. He whimpered and then gaged. I knew he been sick.  
"I TOLD YOU NOT TO STEAL FOOD!" he shook his head violently.  
"i-Ididntdaddy!" he cried, his words coming out in a rush. I stood towering over him. I could see fear reflected in his eyes.  
"LIAR!" I screamed. "I HATE LIARS!" with that I pushed him through the glass window, and he fell the two-story drop. I heard a soft thud as he hit the ground. I planned to leave him there for an hour or so, and then come and drag the useless creature inside before any of the towns folk saw him there when the sun came out. I went downstairs and began my bible studies to past the time.

**Sasha POV**

In the early hours of the morning I was awoken by the sound of shattering glass. My heart leapt into my throat as I tiptoed to my bedroom window which faced the road.  
Looking up and down the road, I saw nothing unusual. However, as I was about to turn back inside, a glint caught my eye. I studied the house across the street from me, having trouble making out what was in the shadows. The glint had been from the shards of glass which reflected in the washed out moon light. It surprised me that the glass had blown outwards instead off in. Something had come out of that window. And then I saw what. A small body lay in the dew-covered grass.

"Mum? What was that?" a sleepy Tanya asked, rubbing her eyes.  
"Go back to bed, sweetheart, its nothing for you to worry about," I told her, being careful not to let my voice shake. Once I heard her bedroom door click shut, I threw in my coat and hurried out the front door, leaving it open behind me.

I cautiously approached the child on the grass. I was unsure what his father would do to me if he saw me here. Suddenly, their front door swung open and the looming figure of the pastor filled the doorway. I froze.  
"W-what are you doing here?" He asked, seeming nervous. I don't think I had ever seen the pastor nervous before.  
"What did you do to him?!" I gasped, motioning to the unconscious child at my feet. I noticed he was covered in blood.  
"He disobeyed me, he deserved this!" he growled. My anger and hatred for this man swelled inside me.  
"Why did you even have a child if you couldn't look after him?" I snarled. He seemed taken aback.  
"I can look after him fine. Carlisle, get up!" he said defiantly. His son didn't respond.  
"HE DIDN'T LISTEN TO YOU SO YOU THREW HIM OUT A WINDOW?!" I bellowed. He took a step back.  
"He fell…" he mumbled, his eyes darting sideways.  
"WHY WOULD I BELIEVE THAT?!" I saw my daughter standing in our front doorway, looking bewildered. "TANYA, GO TO BED!" she scuttled away. The pastor was becoming enraged, I could see it in his face.  
"I WASN'T THE ONE WHO WANTED HIM! IT WAS MY WIFE!" he screamed at me. At my feet Carlisle started shivering, the cold air of the night getting to him. I reached down and put my coat over top of him. Within minutes the blood had soaked through it.  
"YOUR NOT EVEN GOINGTO TAKE HIM TO THE HOSPITAL?!" I asked, disbelieving that one man could be so cruel.  
"WHY WOULD I!? That boy is god's way of punishing me! That boy is Satan himself," he got very close to, spitting the words. "I don't love him. I don't want him. And if I take him to the hospital, my life is over."  
"And if I take him to hospital?" I matched his tone.  
"Then I'll shoot you, and if you live, I'll make you and your kids' lives hell." He said sternly. I didn't doubt his words. He began to walk back towards his door.  
"You're not even going to take him inside?! He'll die!" He turned back to me.  
"I don't care. That might even be a blessing. I told you I didn't want him." I got the feeling that this man couldn't care less for his son. He opened the door. "In fact, if you care so much, why don't you take him!" he laughed cruelly. I looked down at the boy.  
"Fine." He looked slightly alarmed.  
"My threat stays in place." He growled. "No doctors." I nodded reluctantly. "And when he misbehaves, I. DON'T. WANT. HIM. BACK. He is not my problem, he's yours. Got it?" Again I nodded, slightly scared by the man in front of me. "And get off my lawn before anyone sees you."  
I couldn't believe him. He wasn't worried that his son was dying in front of him, just that people might see what he had done to his son.

"Carlisle?" I whispered softly, pushing his hair out of his eyes. He didn't respond. I gently picked the bruised boy up and began carrying him back toward our house. I was shocked at how light he was, he practically weighed nothing. I wondered if I might be too late to save him. _God, I hope not._

Again I tiptoed down our hallway, praying that none of the other kids woke up. I sighed in relief when I made it to the spare bedroom and lay him on the bed. He was still bleeding heavily.  
I rushed downstairs to find a pail and filled it with water.  
Taking it back to him, I knelt beside the bed. Carefully, I peeled back the sleeve of his blood-soaked shirt and began wiping his skin clean of the red liquid, trying to find the source of the bleeding. He stirred a little but otherwise remained unconscious.  
Moving my hand up his arm, I felt a lump under his sleeve. Trying to keep calm, I quickly found a pair of scissors and cut away the rest of the sleeve.

I couldn't help the sob that escaped my lips when I realised what it was.  
Bone protruded from a raw rip in his small arm, blood pouring out of the wound. I panicked, considering calling a doctor despite the threat. This time when I ran to the kitchen, I didn't worry about who I woke up. Irina came into the kitchen.  
"GO TO BED!" I screeched. She started, and began hurrying from the kitchen. I grabbed the medical box and raced back upstairs. I noticed he was starting to stir a little.  
"Carlisle, can you hear me?" I asked, trying to portray a calm figure. He didn't react. I had no idea what to do; I had no medical training what-so-ever.  
Suddenly, he jerked away from me.  
"I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to please don't tell dad I'll clean it up I'm sorry." He burst into hysterics. I lifted my arm up to put it around him. He flinched violently and immediately stopped making noise, just whimpered softly and curled into a ball. Tears ran down his cheeks.  
"Hey… Honey, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you," I whispered, reaching toward him. He backed up as much as he could to get away from my touch. I sat on the edge of the bed. He kept glancing nervously toward the window.  
"I'll clean it up please don't tell my dad," he begged urgently.  
"Clean what up?" I asked gently. He looked at the blood which had covered the bed. "No, no, no, you're going to stay here and lie down." I could see him shaking again, except this time I guess it was from fear.  
"W-what a-about my d-dad he's g-going to b-be mad…" I could barely hear him.  
"You don't have to worry about your father anymore, Carlisle, he can't hurt you now." He didn't look comforted. "Does your arm hurt, love?" He nodded helplessly and pulled it against him. "Can I see? Please? I won't touch you if you don't want me to." He shook his head and pressed his back against the wall, trying to get away. "I promise, I just want to help you." Hesitantly, he shuffled forward until he was close enough to me for me to see properly. His trembling worsened. "If I go down and get you something that will make it feel a bit better, will you take it for me?" He bit his lip but nodded again.  
When I returned with the pain relief, he hadn't moved. I noticed he was quite a lot paler then when I first brought him in. I held it out to him and he swallowed it as quickly as he could.  
"A-am I going to go to sleep now?" he asked shyly.  
"Maybe, sweetie, but it's okay." I could see he was having trouble focusing on things even though he had only just taken it. "In the morning I'm going to call someone to help fix your arm, okay?" he looked a bit panicked, but agreed. "Am I allowed to put a bandage on it just for now, to help stop the bleeding?" he carefully slid closer to me. I could tell he didn't trust me, but had reached a point where he just didn't care.  
I gently began wrapping the bandage around it. It was swollen and red from the impending bruising. I could see deep scars from past wounds etched into his flesh. Already he had been through more than any human should in a life time.  
As I neared the break site, he became fidgety.  
"Tell me if it hurts too much and I'll stop," I told him softly. As I wrapped it over the bone, his breathing quickened and I felt him tense. I looked up at him. His face was wet. "Almost there…"  
His breath came out in choking gasps which shook his body. When I was done, I quickly pinned it then pulled hands away. He immediately became calmer.  
"Come and sit here for a minute." I patted a chair in the corner of the room. Once he was off the bed, I pulled the bloodied blankets from it and replaced them with clean ones.  
"I-I'm sorry," he whispered.  
"It's okay, just come and lie down now." As he made his way to the bed, he stumbled, tripping over his own feet. He crawled up the bed and lay where I told him to. I sat beside him. He still looked incredibly uncomfortable. "Are you okay sweetie? I mean apart from your arm?" He looked away. "You can tell me, I'm not going to hurt you." Again he just shook his head, not trusting me enough to confide in me, I suppose. I could tell he was fighting to stay awake, his exhaustion finally making its self apparent.

Eventually, sleep got the better of him. I pulled the blanket over him. He stiffened, obviously not as oblivious as I though he was. He didn't wake though.  
Once I was sure he was going to stay asleep, I quietly moved from the room and tip toed back to my own bed. I lay awake thinking for several more hours, before finally drifting into my own dreams.

"MUM! WAKE UP!" Kate cried. I open my eyes to find her standing next to where I was lying.  
"What, Katie?" I asked tiredly, my mind thick with sleep.  
"We're late! You didn't wake us up and now the bus has gone!" I chuckled at my young daughters' seriousness about missing school.  
"Yeah, don't panic. Nobody's going to care if you miss one day. Go and get ready for breakfast and I'll be down in a minute. She gave an exasperated sigh before following my instructions. I slowly dressed before making my way to the kitchen. The three of them looked up at me expectantly, waiting for their food.

"I have something I need to talk to you guys about," I said as I removed the bowls from the cupboard.  
"Can it be after breakfast? We're already late, wait, are we even going today?" Irina asked. I knew she hoped the answer would be that they were staying, and right now I think I needed to be on their good sides. I didn't think they would be too excepting of him.  
"No, dumb arse, we're not. Didn't you hear Kate before?"  
"Tanya, be nice to your sister please." I growled. She didn't heed my warning and they both sat glaring at each other across the table.  
"Fine, when she be's nice to our… visitor." Great, they already knew.  
"WHAT VISITOR?!" Kate and Irina cried at the same time. Tanya looked toward me.  
"…Something happened last night, and well, now we have someone staying with us…. And he's not a visitor, by the way, he's a part of our family now." Kate seemed to accept it, but Irina pouted.  
"Who?" She spat.  
"Carlisle Cullen." She barely let me get the words out before flying into a rage.  
"WHY?! YOU DON'T THINK YOU SHOULD HAVE AT LEAST TALKED TO US ABOUT THIS FIRST?! WHY HIM?! WE WERE FINE BEFORE! HE'S JUST GOING TO RUIN EVERYTHING! HE'S WEIRD! I HATE HIM!" She screamed before flying up the stairs.  
"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Tanya yelled after her. She replied with a disgruntled shriek.  
"I don't think he's weird, I like him." Kate stated. I looked at Tanya.  
"He's nice, I guess…" She replied looking away. I left them to their breakfast and went back up the stairs. Irina's door was closed and locked.  
After briefly checking on Carlisle and discovering he was still asleep, I returned to my own room to tidy myself up a bit before the doctor arrived.

Only minutes later I heard a knock at the front door, followed by the excited voices of two of my daughters. They just adored Alistair.  
"Sasha?" he called me from the kitchen.  
"Mum, Alistair's here," Kate appeared in my room, telling me the obvious. I shooed her back downstairs and then went to meet him.  
"So, you've got someone from me to see?" He asked leaning against the bench.  
"Yeah, I guess…" He raised him eyebrows at me in question. "But um… there's a catch?"  
"What are you getting me into this time?" He laughed. I blushed without knowing the reason.  
"Look, you can't tell anyone or say anything about him out of this house, or else we're in big trouble. All of us." Even though I trusted him, I still felt scared.  
"Okay…" he was suddenly serious.  
"And um, he doesn't like being touched so try to do it as little as possible."  
"Why do you have Cullen's kid?"  
"What…?" I was alarmed that he had guessed who it was.  
"Carlisle. I'm assuming that's who it is?" I nodded feeling guilty.  
"How did you know?" I asked quietly. He laughed.  
"A few years back, the last time he got sick, I had to try and treat him, but all without touching him." I started leading him up to the room. When we arrived at the door, I paused.  
"Wait here a minute." I slid inside and put the lamp on dim. A soft light lit the room. The child remained motionless. "Carlisle…" I said gently, trying not to startle him. He didn't respond. I sat on the edge of the bed and put my hand on his legs. "Sweetie, wake up, there's someone here to see you." Again no response. "Carlisle?" I could feel myself beginning to panic. The door open behind me.  
"What's wrong?"  
"He won't wake up. I-" I burst into tears, scared I had waited too long to help him.  
"Well, maybe it's better if he's asleep. That way I can actually touch him." I nodded but didn't feel comforted. Alistair knelt beside him and pressed his fingers into his neck, checking for a pulse.  
"He's okay," he told me. I shook my head and he sighed. "What is actually wrong with him? Is he sick again, he's kind of warm."  
"I think his arms broken," I whimpered.  
"Turn on the light then, I can't see anything." I switched the overhead light on and the room fully illuminated. Alistair gasped. Under the brighter light, all the cuts from the glass and intense bruising from the fall were horrifically evident. "Which one?" he murmured. I reached toward the boy and as carefully as I could, moved his arm to where the doctor could work on it. I slowly unwrapped the bandage as Alistair arranged himself to see properly.

It was worse than the night before. The wound was more inflamed, and the arm almost black from deep bruises. The odd trail of blood still seeped from it. I couldn't imagine the pain he must be in.  
"What happened to him?" Alistair whispered. He wore an expression of horror.  
"…He fell out a window…" I wondered if he might infer the truth anyway.  
"Mum?" Tanya asked, coming into the room.  
"Not now honey, go wait downstairs." My voice shook. She came closer.  
"I want to help." She sounded more sure than I felt. I looked at Alistair.  
"Um… hold this," he said while handing her a towel. She stepped forward and took it. He gave a worried sigh. "Okay."  
I looked away as he began shifting the bone back into position. A few seconds later, he swore.  
"I can do it," my daughter said. I looked up to see her treading the needle to stich the wound closed, kneeling with Alistair beside Carlisle. She watched the entire time as he put the stiches in. Carefully, he slid a brace up the young boys skinny arm, and then fastened it in place. He stood and handed me a bottle.  
"That should stay put, but if it doesn't you can tighten it. When he wakes up give him that, it should help the pain a bit. And whatever you do, DO NOT let him take that off." He gathered his things and then hurried out the door. I thanked him as he went. He seemed rather flustered, and I don't think I had ever seen him like that. I sent Tanya away and sat on the bed, planning to stay there until he woke up.


	3. Chapter 3

"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you," I said gently. He tried to back away from me as he did the night before, but he was still half asleep. I held my hands up so he could see I wasn't going to touch him. He flinched and recoiled. "I promise. I won't touch you if you don't want me to." His eyes darted around the room and I watched his breathing pick up speed. He froze when he saw the scissors lying on the bedside table, Alistair having forgotten to take them. I reached over and put them in the draw.  
"Carlisle, are you hungry?" I asked him. He shook his head, curling his good arm around his stomach. "Are you sure? When was the last time you had something to eat?" He shrugged and glanced down at the brace on his arm.  
"Is it hurting, sweetie?"  
He shook his head again but it was obvious that it did. I put a dose of the pain relief on the bed. He reluctantly took it but never took his eyes off me. One of the girls ran past the door giggling. He jerked backward and whimpered, tears running down his face.  
"It's okay, they live here too. They won't hurt you, there's nothing to be scared of," I told him quietly. "I'm going downstairs to make sure they're behaving themselves, do you want to come with me?"  
When I got up he didn't move, just looked at me with wide eyes. I left the door open slightly and went down.

"Mum? Can I have a cookie?"  
"Fine," I groaned. They had all been taking advantage of the fact that i couldn't be bothered fighting them on anything today.  
"Can I watch TV?"  
"Yes, just be good. And don't get crumbs all over everything!" I called after Kate. She made a point of dropping a piece of biscuit on the floor. I glared. She picked it up and ate it, then smiled a triumphant smile at me. "Don't push me, Katie, not today." I scolded.  
Irina and Kate sat arguing about what to watch while Tanya sat with me, drawing at the table.  
"What are we having for dinner?" She asked. It was just after lunch.  
"Is that all you ever think about?" I giggled. She laughed with me.  
"Yes, but what are we having?" she pressed.  
"I don't know. I'll feed you when the time comes."  
"Is the time now?"  
"You just had lunch!" We laughed again. She went back to her drawing.  
"Is Carlisle going to eat with us?" she asked quietly after a long silence.  
"I suppose so. I don't know if he will want to just yet." I felt a flutter of uncertainty in my chest as I realised I had no idea how he would react to anything yet.  
"Will he go to school with us?"  
"Yes, eventually."  
"Is he going to school tomorrow?"  
"I doubt it." I knew her next question before she opened her mouth.  
"Are we going to school tomorrow?" She was smiling again.  
"Yes. Yes you are." She pulled a face and pretended to sulk. If she was one of the other two, she wouldn't be faking. Once again she was absorbed in her drawing.  
I walked up the stairs in search of Carlisle.

"What do you want to have for dinner, sweetie?" As I spoke he glanced up at me, fear reflected in his eyes. "It's just me; I'm not going to hurt you." He was sitting in exactly the same position that I left him in.  
He didn't respond, but stayed frozen in place, like he was too scared to move. As I walked closer to him, I could see him trembling. He glanced toward the door then back at me. Scared. More than scared, terrified.  
"Hey, what's wrong? You're safe, Carlisle." I reached toward him, going to offer some form of comfort. He started and half fell off the other side of the bed and backed into a corner, shrinking down as if he wanted to disappear. Tears ran down his cheeks.  
I sighed feeling a little bit frustrated, more at myself for not being able to help him that at him. I sat on the bed, unsure what he might do if I tried to approach him now he had nowhere to go.  
"You are safe now, love."  
He was focused on me, watching my every move. I sighed again, then left, knowing I wasn't going to make any progress at that point in time and he didn't want me near him.

"Okay, what do we want for tea?" I called to the three in the lounge. It was 5:30.  
"PIZZA!" Kate cried. The other two let out an agreement whoop.  
"Pizza it is," I mumbled heading back into the kitchen to find the phone.  
Awhile later when it arrived, I made them sit at the table and dished up their food. I went back up stairs.  
"Carlisle? Do you want to come and have dinner with us?"  
He didn't move or respond.  
"Come on, I promise we won't bite." I smiled, gesturing that he should get up. He promptly did and came closer to me. He followed hesitantly out the door, always keeping about two arms lengths between us. As we made our way down to the kitchen, I could feel him getting more and more nervous. I knew he was only doing as I had asked because he was frightened I might hurt him if he didn't. When I entered the kitchen where my girls were, he froze, standing just behind the doorway.  
"Come on, you've come this far," I encouraged. He slowly came in, standing behind me. I sat and pulled out a chair between me and Kate.  
"Come sit. You can't eat down there."  
He looked up at me pleadingly, begging me not to make him. He stiffly obeyed my instruction anyway. I put a plate in front of him with food on it. He flinched when it clattered against the table.  
Over the next half an hour, we all stuffed our faces until our stomachs hurt. The girls giggled and pretended to steal each other's food.  
Carlisle didn't eat or say anything, just sat staring at his hands in his lap. After everyone else had gotten up, he remained sitting.  
"You're allowed to go, sweetie."  
He slowly got up, seeming unsure what to do now he had done so. I started clearing dishes way. He stood against the wall watching, more my movement than what I was doing. When Kate came in begging for ice cream, he flattened himself and backed further away from me and her.  
"Soon," I told her.  
"Do you want to watch TV with us?" she asked Carlisle. He shook his head and fidgeted nervously. I could see him praying she would go away. "It's okay, you don't have to," she told him before walking back into the longue. I followed her, seeing what Carlisle would do. He sat on the floor with his back against the wall and his arm tucked against him. He looked tired.

When the light had faded, I shooed them all up to bed, getting Carlisle to come too. Irina glared daggers at him the entire way. He watched his feet, tripping a few times as he did.  
I tucked the others in, and then went in to him. He was sitting on top of the covers, picking at the loose threads.  
"Come on, honey, hop in bed."  
He did as I said. I stopped myself from kissing him as I had done to the my girls.  
"Goodnight, Carlisle," I said gently, walking toward the door and reaching for the light switch. He fidgeted and looked like he was going to cry.  
"What's wrong?" I felt like it was endless with him, asking him what was the matter and telling him it was okay. "Are you worried about your dad?" At the mention of his father a tear ran across his face. I sighed. "He can't get you, Carlisle. You're perfectly safe."  
He wiped his face but the tears were quickly replaced. I went back and sat on the bed again.  
"Look, sweetie, you're going to have to tell me what's wrong, because I can't read minds," I told him as gently as I could without letting my frustration break through.  
He still didn't say anything and I wondered how long this would go on for.  
"I'm going to go to bed, okay? If you want me you can call out or come and see me, you won't get in trouble." I got up and walked away again, pausing in the doorway. "Do you want me to leave the light on?"  
He nodded this time so I left it and headed to my room. When I opened my door, three faces looked back at me from under the blankets of my bed. I smiled.  
"Are we sleeping together tonight?"  
"Yes!" the three of them said with more enthusiasm than needed at this time of night.  
"Okay then, make room." I wiggled in beside them. Although it was always uncomfortable when we slept like this which we seemed to after their father, I enjoyed having them this close.

"Mum," someone whispered and shook me slightly. "Wake up."  
"What? It's not morning yet," I complained.  
"It is morning though, just not enough morning to get up," Kate whispered back.  
"What do you want, Katie?"  
"To have a midnight snack."  
"Kate…"  
"Please?"  
"Okay, but don't wake up the other two or they'll never go back to bed."  
We both tiptoed downstairs. Once I had closed the kitchen door, we turned on the light. I made us hot chocolates while Kate found the biscuits. We sat in comfortable silence while we ate them.  
"Happy now?" I asked her smiling.  
"Yes," she confirmed. She turned off the light and opened the door, creeping back to bed. I followed her.

"Carlisle, you have to eat," I told him sternly. It had been three days since we had had him and he hadn't eaten or said anything. He just stared at the food in front of him nervously. He looked unwell and I was ninety per cent sure that it was from lack of food. He looked up at me.  
In the other room Irina and Tanya were fighting.  
"MUM!" Tanya called to me.  
"Eat! You can't starve yourself!" I could hear my voice rising and struggled to keep calm. He fidgeted and shifted uncomfortably.  
"MUM!" she shrieked again, this time more urgently.  
"Mum, Irina hit Tanya," Kate told me, coming into the room.  
"Irina come here! Carlisle. Please, just eat something," I pleaded. Irina came in with Tanya and Kate.  
"She hit me," Tanya said quietly.  
"NO I DIDN'T!" Irina shouted at her. Again Carlisle's tears started.  
"Yes you did," Kate accused in a way that only a child could. "I saw you!"  
Tanya held up the red mark on her arm that Irina had made.  
"ENOUGH!" I screamed, the last string of patience in me breaking. Even though she was too old for it, I smacked Irina on the bottom, purely to make a statement.  
"What was the point of that? It didn't even hurt." Her snarky comment pushed me over the edge.  
"GO TO YOUR ROOM IRINA! I'VE HAD ENOUGH! YOU TWO GO INTO THE LOUNGE AND I SWEAR TO GOD, ANY MORE NOISE AND YOU'RE BOTH GOING TO BED! CARLISLE, STOP CRYING AND EAT YOUR GOD DAMN DINNER!" I immediately regretted shouting. He quickly began eating as fast as he could, almost choking trying to swallow and try to control his sobs. He coughed and struggled his way through until there was nothing left on his plate. He then sat there shaking, petrified. I realised he had seen me smack Irina. When I stood, he yelped and raised his good arm as if to protect himself from a blow.  
"Carlisle, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled," I said as evenly as I could. I was on the brink of tears as well, feeling like some kind of brute for scaring him the way I had. As I stepped toward him, he reeled backwards, slipping from his chair. He cried out when he landed with his full weight on his broken arm. "Sweetie, please stop."  
He was hyperventilating and scrambling away from me. Whatever little trust we had had been broken. "Carlisle…"  
"Iwanttogohome," he sobbed. It was his first words since the night we first brought him here. His words shocked me. I couldn't understand what made him want to go back.  
"Why, sweetie, I'm not mad at you, I'm sorry I yelled the way I did," I said gently. Almost gently.  
"I want my d-dad." He had curled himself up into almost a ball, getting as far away from me as he could.  
"Honey, I can't let you go back, he'll hurt you again."  
"I-I don't care! I want to go home," he wasn't yelling the way a normal child would, his voice was barely raised.  
"Carlisle, you can't!"  
"Why not?! You're not my mother you can't replace her! I don't want you to!" I realised that's exactly what I had been trying to do. Never had I heard such hurt in a child's voice.  
"I know I can't, but I can't let you go. He'll hurt you."  
"That's not why you care! You don't want me to go because he said he'll hurt your family! The only reason you saved me is because your kids judge you! Let me go!" He was sobbing so uncontrollably now I had no idea how I would ever defuse it. I realised he was right. The reason I had brought him here at first was to make it up to Kate, and part of the reason I couldn't let him go was because his father threatened my family.  
"If I hadn't brought you here, you would have died!" I couldn't believe I was trying to justify that I was a god person to a kid.  
"So what?! It would have saved you a lot of trouble!"  
"Carlisle, your NINE! You don't understand what death is yet."  
"I'm SEVEN!" he screamed at me, the same volume I screamed at him.  
"That's my point!"  
"MAYBE I WANTED TO DIE!"  
"STOP. BEING. STUPID. CARLISLE," I scolded.  
"I'M NOT! I WANT TO GO HOME!"  
"YOU CANT!"  
He watched me and backed toward the front door, never taking his eyes off me.  
"CARLISLE!" I growled. I hadn't realised what I had gotten myself into bringing him hear.  
"Thank you for helping me, but I didn't want to be helped," he said, lowering his voice from a shout to a whisper like no child was able to.  
"He'll kill you, you can't go back there," I tried to reason with him.  
"You do it them," he shot back.  
"What?"  
He glanced sideways at the block of knives on the bench. "I miss my mum," he whimpered, his walls finally breaking down. I felt my eyes grow wide as I realised what he wanted.  
"No, Carlisle, I would never hurt you!" I was sobbing now too.  
"I want to go home," he turned and attempted to slither out the door.  
"CARLISLE NO!" I lunged forward and grabbed him. He saw me coming and dodged me, just getting out of the way.  
"I'm going home," he said evenly.  
"You can't," my voice broke.  
"I miss my mother. I'm going home."  
Suddenly it dawned on me that home wasn't the house across the road, home was with his mother.  
"CARLISLE!" This time I did grab him and he struggled against me. "Stop child."  
He stopped moving. I pulled him back inside and up the stairs, back into the room where he had been staying. I sat him on the bed and sat next to him.  
Suddenly Alistair appeared in the door way.  
"Why are you here?" I gasped, shocked and pleased at the same time.  
"Someone told me you needed me," he smiled but it was a worried smile. I nodded and looked at Carlisle. His face was blank and he had gone still and quiet.  
"Carlisle, are we not doing too well, buddy?" he asked.  
The boy didn't respond, just continued looking absently ahead of him. Alistair made a face.  
"Okay, how 'bout we put you in bed so you can get some rest, and I'll talk to your mum for a minute-"  
"She's not my mother," he replied, his voice didn't betray any emotion either. He did as he was told.  
Alistair gestured for me to come with him.

"What started this?" he asked me. I felt tears burning in the back of my eyes.  
"Irina and Tanya was fighting and I smacked Irina but Carlisle saw and then I started yelling and he was so scared of me and begged me to let him go home and I told him no his father would kill him and told me that was what he wanted because he wanted to be with his mother and he tried to run and I took him up there and then you came." My words came out fast and all strung together and I wondered whether he actually understood any of it.  
"It's okay, Sasha, he's seven, he has no perception of death. When kids get upset they say things they don't mean," he told me reassuringly.  
"But Carlisle different," I sobbed, unable to control myself.  
"Yeah, he is a bit, but he's still a child under all of it." He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to him, rubbing my back while I cried. My head was leaning on his shoulder. "Look, I know you want to keep him here, but maybe we should look at other options? To protect your children?"  
"No I- I don't want to that's no fair."  
"Sasha, you did a good thing, and you saved him, but Carlisle's an odd child and might need a different kind of treatment?" he was trying to broach the subject carefully.  
"What do you mean?"  
"Someone his age shouldn't think the way he does…"  
"And you're suggesting what exactly?" I forced myself to become calm.  
"I think maybe he should be taken…further away from his father… that way it's kind of more permanent for him and he might feel a bit safer."  
"We can't move…" I mumbled.  
"That's not what I'm suggesting."  
"Then what then?"  
He paused seeming hesitant. "…Foster care…?"


End file.
